


hold onto your voice

by remi_wolf



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Amputation, Angst, Bugs & Insects, Canon-Typical Violence, Fjord is an oblivious idiot who likes to pine over hot wizards, Fluff and Angst, It's really mostly just an angst fest though, Jester is a Cockblock, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mimics are a bitch and a half, Mutilation, Mutual Pining, but also goes a step above, but only for like one night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 01:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remi_wolf/pseuds/remi_wolf
Summary: Many things can be discovered sitting underneath the green leaves of a tree 500 feet tall that's guarded by a Roc. Such things include a discovery of your patron trying to drown you with every spell you cast, that other gods could be as soothing as a mother's warm embrace, but also that a certain wizard in your company is very handsome and much more personable than he used to be when you first met him.However, trees are not homes, and missions must be completed. Despite the bad feeling Fjord has as they leave the Arbor Exemplar, they explore an abandoned temple, and every terror keeping Fjord up at night happens.





	1. let me cover you

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this shortly after episode 2.65, so keep that in mind as you read this. In other words, they just got to Arbor Exemplar, and they still have Yasha around. I've been slowly chipping away at it for months, so it's finished, or at least this story is. There might be more later on, but nothing's in the works quite yet in any solid form.  
Oh, also, any canon that's been updated in the time since 2.65 is entirely disregarded. Namely, this is the Fjord Ljore Dump of 2.72. So that's some weirdness that you'll come across, because I like some of my headcanons enough to keep them even if they've basically been jossed.

_ Hold onto your voice. Hold onto your breath. Don’t make a noise, _

_ don’t leave the room until I come back from the dead for you. I will _

_ come back from the dead for you. _

_ -Richard Siken _

“You want us to leave the tree?” Fjord didn’t know how he felt about this suggestion, even despite the fact that they just fought a Roc before Caduceus talked it down to explain that they were just resting and that they wouldn’t hurt the tree or disturb its nest again. Of course they weren’t going to try to wear out their welcome from the bird just to stay in some shade. The Wildmother gave them a miracle in how the murder-bird hadn’t bothered them again. It allowed them to rest for a day, just to figure out what they intended to do about going further north after the Drow-appearing agent. Fjord had grown to enjoy the tree, especially because of the fact that…someone, probably the Wildmother, now that he thought about it, kept him safe from Uk’otoa. Kept the Serpent’s influence away from him. Warmed his magic and made him feel safe. He had thought it was a fluke with saving Jester, but after he had taken some time to experiment, and then to fight the Roc before they all sorted everything out, he realized that it was definitely warm.

And he was scared to lose that.

Terrified, really.

He didn’t know what it would take to stay with the Wildmother. She felt warm, and safe, and Fjord actually found himself enjoying the green safety of the dream that she had given him. In fact, the night of peace felt so nice that the thought of leaving the safety of the branches filled him with terror that could have Uk’otoa’s nightmares and ocean-cold dreams again.

“Well, with all respect, Mr. Fjord, the Roc has been plenty kind in letting us stay here as long as we have. I’d hate to impose upon his kindness any further than we already have,” Caduceus said, and Fjord frowned, shaking his head slightly before adjusting and looking at the others, hand clenching and unclenching as though he was trying to reach for the falchion.

“Surely the Roc doesn’t mind all that much. We’re tiny, we don’t eat its food. We could stick around longer,” Fjord said, and at the looks from the other, he frowned and shifted slightly. He didn’t want to make it seem as though he opposed the idea too much, but he did, if he was being honest with himself. 

Jester sighed, though it seemed far more concerned than annoyed with him for being so bull-headed. “Fjord, we do have to take care of the Iron Angel people. The Bright Queen’s probably already getting concerned about us, and we wouldn’t want to make her upset at all.” Her voice sounded too kind, like a mother to her child, practically, and Fjord stiffened at that, not appreciating the thought that he didn’t know that already, or that he was a child. He didn’t need to be…coddled, or something like that. He knew how his strength compared to Yasha, or next to even Jester, or the memory of Wursh back in the city. Just because he wasn’t strong like them and worried over stupid nightmares didn’t mean he needed coddling.

“I’m just saying. This tree’s safe and all. Why can’t we just stay here? It’s stupid to leave when it’s fine here and we still don’t’ know what we’re walking into.” Fjord knew digging his heels in when everyone else was on-board with the plan made him look like the childish figure he didn’t want to be, but he couldn’t help it.

“Mr. Fjord, I’m glad that you’re able to find some peace here, but—”

“What do you mean by that? I just think it’s safer to stay here. I don’t know why we have to run after some sort of magic assassin,” Fjord said, eyes snapping to Caduceus, his voice growing in volume before he finally just turned, walking away and around the wide base of the tree. He didn’t want to deal with anyone, nor want to snap at them further. He didn’t care if they were worried, or if they were already making plans to pack up so that they could leave as early as possible in the morning, but he just wanted to be alone. Alone to try and figure out how to pray to the Wildmother for protection when they traveled away from Her side and he couldn’t figure out how to pray to her, because why would a stupid orphan ever be taught how to pray?

The falchion appeared in his hand after a few moments, the supposed “Sword of Fathoms” still dripping seawater and looking much like it had when he grabbed it after waking up on that beach. It hurt to have it in his hand, especially when he knew how Uk’otoa was willing to do to him to ensure his compliance with the nightmares and the feelings of drowning again. He hated it, but he didn’t know how to fix it or really end it at all, and he threw the sword into the ground before sitting down. He wasn’t that far from the others, could still hear some of their chatter, though he sat far enough that he couldn’t make any of it out more specifically.

“So. Wildmother. I don’t…I don’t have any of Duceus’ tea, and I don’t really know what I’m doing at all,” Fjord said before just groaning and hitting his head against the cracked and stringy bark of the tree behind him. This was stupid, and Fjord had absolutely no idea what he was even trying to do with this silly prayer. He wasn’t Jester, he didn’t grow up with the Wildmother. And he certainly wasn’t Caduceus, who barely seemed to be a mortal, physical creature in the first place. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that Caduceus was a constantly-reincarnated gravekeeper of the Wildmother who just made tea out of dead people and served to vaguely guide random adventurers that got too close to the graveyard.

He wasn’t any of that. He was an orphan from a tiny coastal town, and there wasn’t any reason a proper goddess would want to deal with him. All he deserved was that crazy tentacle creature that practically drowned him with every spell and every nightmare.

“Fjord?”

Caleb’s accented voice, pronouncing the stupid “j” that he added into the fake name on a panicked whim, just as it always did, sounded from around the tree. It was a clear distinction from the rest of the noise and helped to cut through Fjord’s thoughts.

“Over here, Caleb,” Fjord said, his voice sounding more tired than he had realized he felt, and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He only looked up as Caleb settled down next to him on the ground. “What do you want? We’ll be travelling early tomorrow, that’s fine. I’ll just buck up and deal with it,” he said, and he frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to stop acting like more of an asshole than he had anticipated. He opened his mouth to apologize, or something, but Caleb was already speaking.

“I do not have a cat right now, but you can still have Frumpkin if you would like. I cannot say that I understand why you want to stay here, but…I do not entirely blame you, I do not think,” Caleb murmured softly, and Fjord frowned as Caleb entirely surprised him with those words. Frumpkin looked like a vulture, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do with that. And he supposed that no one else really did know why he wanted to stay at all, especially considering a giant murder-bird continued to fly and roost above their heads the entire time they stayed here.

Fjord ran a hand through his hair, pulling the falchion out of the ground before dispelling it with a flick of his wrist and trail of seawater. “I just…it feels good here, y’know? That’s all.”

“You do not have to worry about Uk’otoa, Fjord. You are very far from the ocean. It would take you weeks to get back to the sea,” Caleb murmured, voice soft, and Fjord’s eyes snapped to the wizard, looking at him with a slight amount of distrust, even if he didn’t have any reason not to trust him at all. Caleb didn’t react, just looking at Frumpkin and gently petting his weird face with the strange beak and nose. Slowly, Fjord relaxed back against the tree, and he just looked at the wizard for a little bit.

Caleb didn’t seem to react to the way in which Fjord watched him, still petting Frumpkin and letting them sit in silence. The moments dragged on, and Fjord found himself admiring the way in which Caleb’s ginger hair haloed his face for a few moments longer than strictly necessary before he brought himself to continue the conversation.

“What makes you think that I’m worried about him?”

“Your falchion was out. This is a place for the Wildmother, apparently, and you did not wake up in a panic last night. It only stands to reason that you would be worried about him.”

Caleb’s voice had the clear assurance of someone confident and not at all questioning about the truth of their words, and Fjord’s eyes narrowed at just how well he read people. It really terrified a small part of Fjord, made him wonder what else those keen blue eyes had seen about him. Hopefully it hadn’t seen much. Hopefully, Caleb only knew a small fraction of what Fjord had been hiding from all of them.

“Something uncomfortable happened a little while ago. I’m just worried it’s going to happen again when I can’t let it happen at all,” Fjord finally said, voice soft as he admitted it. It felt stupid to admit this and admit this sort of weakness, but he didn’t know what else to do after Caleb came over here and started up this conversation.

Caleb didn’t really say anything to that, simply continuing to be quiet and either let Fjord talk, or perhaps just feeling that there didn’t need to be much conversation at all. Fjord wasn’t sure which, and so he just stayed quiet as well.

“The accent’s Vandran’s.”

“What?”

What?

Fjord blinked, barely having even realized that he said something at all, and he certainly hadn’t meant to start in on that tangent, and a flush crawled up his cheeks as he shrugged. “You asked about it earlier. A few days ago or something. I just…When Vandran died, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I had just drowned, I had magic powers, and I just hurt because the closest thing I had to a father died. And so when I left for the Empire with Jessie, I just…started using it,” he said, and Caleb looked up at Fjord for a long while before finally nodding.

“Alright then. I was simply curious. You are a fascinating person, Fjord. I do not know what to make of you some days,” he said, sending a strange shiver down Fjord’s back, and Fjord couldn’t help the way he leaned towards Caleb a half-inch, a half-grin on his face.

“Really, now? Fascinating, am I?” he asked, the drawl deepening slightly in the somewhat flirtatious tone that was still odd to him, but he was glad that he had done so when he immediately saw a faint brush of pink spread across Caleb’s cheeks and up to his ears. Fjord found himself enjoying the warmth spreading in his chest at the sight of it.

“ _ Ja _ . Fascinating. You are full of mysteries. That is all. You have a fake accent, and you are very good at putting on different disguises,” Caleb said, words still cut and dry as they always had been, and Fjord stiffened just slightly, wondering what else Caleb meant by that. The wizard didn’t elaborate at all, and Fjord didn’t really know whether or not he should push. Perhaps the slight attempt at flirtation wasn’t as good of an idea as Fjord initially thought it had been. 

Despite the way that Caleb seemed to fall quiet, Fjord didn't want this conversation to end, not when he just started to get close to Caleb, and he started to enjoy the way that they had a slight amount of banter back and forth between each other. He paused for a moment as he shifted closer to Caleb, adjusting and thinking over how to continue. "You really do think I'm fascinating, then? Or is it just because of my accent and strange magic?" Fjord didn’t know what else to ask, and the only indication that Caleb heard Fjord was a huff of breath out of his nose like a laugh.

"Ja, Fjord. I do believe I said that already. And you with your arrangement with that serpent is interesting. I don't know why you would continue to question that," Caleb murmured, and Fjord blinked for a moment before sighing and shrugging. Even though there was a strange warmth in his chest at the compliments from Caleb, he still didn’t particularly believe that they were true in any meaningful way.

"I don't know. I just find it hard to believe that such an incredible wizard could consider me fascinating, like one of those spells you enjoy so much," he finally murmured, glancing down at the book against Caleb's chest, and then the faint lines of scars against his arms in morbid memory of the puzzle that Ikithon had tried to puzzle out, using Caleb as some sort of stupid experiment or something.

Caleb half-shifted closer towards Fjord after a moment, and Fjord blinked, not letting himself pull back, even if he was shocked at the behavior. Caleb never usually initiated the contact with others, even if he wasn’t quite so obviously hating of it. The wizard sighed, still not touching Fjord, but mere inches away. Close enough that their heat started to mix, and Fjord wanted to close the distance and pull Caleb's slim form against his chest, even if it would almost be a laughable sight. Fjord knew he wasn't that large for his race, even despite the human blood mixed with the orc, but Caleb was still slim and small enough that he'd be practically dwarfed, pressed against his chest. He'd probably still be warm, though, like a fire or ember that Fjord could keep safe against his chest.

Fjord eventually realized that Caleb was explaining something to him, or saying something. His thoughts had apparently gotten so distracted with the thought of having Caleb against him that he had entirely missed the first part of the sentence. "--but you, you are very different than those puzzles," Caleb murmured. Fjord opened his mouth to ask Caleb to say the first bit again, to try and figure out what exactly he meant by that, or what had led up to that strange comparison.

"Fjord! Caleb!" Jester's voice cut off Fjord's attempt to ask, though, and he looked up at the blue tiefling running around the tree. Caleb had pulled away in an instant, and Fjord couldn't help the shiver at the somewhat cool breeze that appeared without the warmth of Caleb even being somewhat near him. Trying not to get too terribly disappointed by the shift was a fruitless endeavor, and Fjord just barely kept himself from telling her off so he could pull Caleb close again. "What are you doing over here? Are you two kissing?"

"Jessie, please. We were talking, that's all," Fjord said, rolling his eyes just slightly. If they were kissing, he'd...well, Fjord didn't know. He'd probably be far more upset with her. And Caleb would certainly be in his lap and pressed against his chest in that case. "Are we leaving now? Or are we going to leave in the morning? I don't remember exactly what we ended up deciding."

"Well, I think we might end up leaving now? Caduceus is pretty sure that there's still a decent amount of daylight left, and Beau's pretty sure that there's some sort of building or structure or thing in one of the weird spike things. So she and Nott want to go take a look at it. We're all rested, and so we could take the day to go there and then rest inside if it's safe. And if not, Caleb can make his bubble, and we'll be safe, then," Jester said, and Fjord rolled his eyes, though he stood up, offering his hand to Caleb.

"That sounds like it could be dangerous, if we're not careful. We don't know if anything's in there, and we don't know if it's full of nasty creatures like the Roc or those bat-shadow things from earlier," Fjord said, trying not to instantly come up with a reason not to leave the tree as soon as possible, but also not wanting to instantly decide to walk into a very dangerous situation.

"I thought you liked risks, Fjord. I do not know if there is any reason not to go investigate this place, at least a little bit. And it could provide a safe place to stay, closer to the town we are going to," Caleb said, and Fjord frowned, reaching up and picking at the new stubs of tusks, nervous and not sure of exploring a mysterious structure. Risks were fine and all that, but the idea of this particular risk, with them being so far from a safe city or town, made his skin crawl with worry.

"What does Yasha and Caduceus think?"

"They think it's going to be fun. And we might get more money, too," Jester said, and she frowned, crossing her arms as she looked at Fjord, a stern look in her eyes. Fjord frowned, shifting slightly under her gaze, not entirely comfortable with it as she looked at him. She had clearly picked up and sharpened her razor-gaze after the months of travel with Caduceus. "Are you being a scaredy cat, or are you really worried about this? We don't have to, but everyone else thinks that it could be fun. There shouldn't be too much out here, anyways. This tree is the only source of food for ages, and the Roc keeps things away because it hunts everything. It should be fine."

Fjord sighed, hand moving to pinch at the bridge of his nose, thinking over it before finally nodding. “It sounds reasonable enough. If Caduceus thinks that it should be safe enough, then I’ll trust that. And besides, we’ve managed to take care of everything else here. I’m sure we can manage to clear out that building easy enough,” he finally said, wincing just slightly at the squeal from Jester as he stood up and she ran off. Caleb reacted far more quietly as the wizard looked at him, and Fjord shifted somewhat uncomfortably under the wizard’s gaze. 

“We will be fine. I am sure it will be empty. Jester is right, the Roc would keep everything away,” Caleb murmured, leaning somewhat closer to Fjord now that Jester had left them in private again. 

“I know, I know. I just got a bit of a bad feeling, that’s all.”


	2. a hand to hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of the story's warnings come in this chapter. Major character death, graphic violence (though mostly canon-typical violence), amputation, self-hatred and downward spirals of thought. Things like that.   
Enjoy more pining and heartbreak over the course of this chapter.

It wasn’t even a fight when it happened. 

Or, at least, it hadn’t started out as a fight. Jester and Caduceus were right in that the burrow seemed mostly empty and easy enough to clear out. Strange, bug-like creatures had nested in a few of the different rooms, but they were easily dispatched. Fjord had been concerned by the number, though, and he started to ask them to leave, instead of risking it further. 

But then there was that creature mimicking as a chest. 

Caduceus and Jester has already stepped out to inspect some moss that was glowing with a faint purple light, and Nott had poked at the chest before asking Caleb to try his spell. Of course Nott wanted into it, considering the chest looked shiny and new and as though nothing had ever touched it. When her lockpicks didn’t work, Caleb’s spell was the obvious choice.

That stupid, stupid spell. The knock rang out clearly enough, and something shifted in the ground. Caleb didn’t have a chance to react when the chest shifted as well, pulling away from the wall and opening up its maw with teeth longer than Caleb’s arm was wide, and it clamped down hard on the wizard, the teeth sinking deep into the flesh just below his shoulder. 

It was at that moment that time seemed to slow around Fjord. He could see Caleb fall, wound bleeding far faster than any wound should, and the monster’s mouth dripping with the crimson liquid as well. He could practically taste licorice on his tongue, as though Caleb had used that haste spell on him, rather than the usual target of Beau or Yasha, and after a moment, everything sped up around him again, bringing himself back to the present of the fight. Caduceus and Jester were outside with Beau, trying to fight off another wave of insects. Yasha, Nott and him were trying to keep the mimic from continuing to gnaw on Caleb’s too-still body. He was too far from Caleb to try and shove a healing potion down his throat. Somehow he could still hear the bubbling breath of Caleb gasping to hold onto life. 

“Jessie, get to Caleb!” He knew that it was useless. That she knew it already, but Fjord needed to know that she was going to get to Caleb in time. He couldn’t even manage to put on Vandran’s accent as he pointed the falchion at the mimic and loosed a bolt of curling green eldritch energy towards the gaping mouth. 

“I am trying, Fjord! But he’s far away, and there are a lot of teeth over here!” Jester’s voice replied, and he looked over at her, seeing a massive insect on one side of her body and the mimic on her other side, separating her from Caleb. While the insect looked rough, with a cracked and gaping wound in its abdomen, the mandibles were still sharp and menacing and moving. Fjord was still at least thirty feet from Caleb. He didn’t even see Nott in the fray. He ran towards Caleb, already trying to fish for a potion out of his pack as he ran. He didn’t get close enough to Caleb before a tendril shot out at him from the mimic, and he only had enough of a thought to fumble the falchion to block it, even if it still grazed a burning scrape against his arm. 

The tendril went flying, splattering against the wall, but it didn’t stop the mimic. Almost instantly, a second tendril was flying towards him. Fjord managed to duck out of the way of that one, but he wasn’t able to keep moving forward for a moment. The mimic still stood over Caleb’s body. In a half-hysterical moment, Fjord realized he could see the mimic’s reflection in the red mirror Caleb had fallen onto.

It was still taking too long and he finally slid over to Caleb’s side, fumbling to track down a potion in his things. He couldn’t hear Caleb’s ragged breathing anymore, couldn’t even see the movement of his chest as he finally pulled out the tiny bottle with the blood-red liquid inside that should at least close Caleb’s wounds. He wasn’t breathing, but he could still be stabilized. That’s all he wanted. Caleb couldn’t just die like this. Fjord poured the liquid down Caleb’s throat, a dribble spilling out the side, and Fjord frowned, shifting to wipe it up and he waited a moment. 

And then a second moment. 

And a third. 

There wasn’t an intake of breath, nor did the wounds seem to close at all. Caleb didn’t shift, nor make a sound, nor anything. Caleb always gasped when he woke from unconsciousness. He always gasped. He always made a production of it. 

Now, Caleb was still, unmoving except for the final sluggish bleeding from his gaping wound. 

“No, no, Cay, seriously, you can’t do this to me.” Fjord shifted, pushing Caleb up slightly and placing the mirror-edge of his falchion under his nose. A sailor’s trick he remembered from Vandran. It didn’t fog with breath at all. 

Caleb was too still, and he was dead, and Fjord felt his blood then to ice in this cold room. 

“Fjord! Behind you!”

Jester’s voice cut through the fog of his thoughts, and Fjord spun, seeing the creature behind him, teeth massive and dripping, and he felt a cold fury solidify in his hand as he brought his sword up. A series of words, unfamiliar in shape and sound, and tasting of juniper berries, fell from his lips as the sword connected, a bright green light the color of spring-fresh pine needles spreading out in a flash as the creature disappeared, entirely missing from the chamber now. 

Fjord was breathing hard, still staring at where the creature once was, and so confused as to why or how that happened. He took a shaking breath before practically collapsing next to Caleb’s body, ignoring Jester fussing over him and Nott practically screaming in his ear. 

Caleb was gone. He was gone, and Caduceus had to be tapped, and Jester certainly was, considering she hadn’t pulled out her diamond yet. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen the lollipop out, either. This was stupid, and his fault. He never should have let them come here, and he certainly should have told them to turn back after the third skirmish with the insects. He knew that they were tapped. He was tapped himself, and that was even before that strange spell that came from nowhere. 

“Mr. Fjord, we really ought to get going. I’m sure more of those bugs will come, and we need to make sure that we can get Caleb to a safe spot before too long,” Caduceus said, and Fjord blinked, not expecting the low rumble of his voice so close to his ear. He shook his head, clearing the dark thoughts for a moment before frowning as he saw that Caleb’s body had already been picked up. He glanced up to see Yasha holding the limp wizard, even though she looked as though she was about to collapse as well. 

“Right, of course,” Fjord replied, coughing slightly as he caught the hints of Caleb’s Zemnian vowels coloring his words, and he closed his eyes for a moment. “How long was I staring into space there?” 

“Not long. Maybe five minutes while Miss Jester and I patched everyone up as well as we could manage. But we should get going now,” Caduceus said. Fjord sighed before dragging himself to his feet and dismissing the sword from his limp grasp. 

It would be fine. He’d be fine. Caduceus and Jester could figure out how to pull Caleb’s soul back to them. He was useless, though. He couldn’t even get to Caleb in time to save him. His sword was useless, his magic was useless, and he wasn’t fast enough or strong enough to keep them all safe. He knew that it had been a matter of time before it grew obvious, but he hadn’t wanted it pointed out to him like this. He had just wanted it to be obvious when he got himself hurt instead and the others insisted he go home or something. 

“Stop beating yourself up, idiot.”

Fjord frowned, hand tightening on the strap of his pack, and he glanced over at where Beau was walking next to him, leaning heavily on her bo and glancing over at him. 

“The fuck are you talking about?” he asked, less venom in his voice than he wanted, and he realized he sounded exhausted, too exhausted to keep up any sort of accent and sounding like a vague slur of Vandran, Zemnian, and Damalian in the end. 

“We had no idea we were walking into a hive, idiot. I can see plain on your face that you’re thinking you’re responsible for this. Especially since you were the one who finally okay’ed the trip into this place,” Beau said, and Fjord couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Even though she was right, she didn’t have to say it and lie that it wasn’t his fault. Of course it was. Of course it was all his fault that this had ended up happening. 

“I should have been able to protect you guys better, though. At the very least, I should have been able to manage that,” Fjord finally said, and Beau rolled her eyes, her entire head following the motion of it. 

“Yeah. Whatever. That’s a stupid thought. You can’t protect everyone, and we were all too tapped and stupid to really stand much of a fight. We’ll drag Caleb back, though. You need to get some sleep. You musta hit your head too hard, since your voice is all sorts of fucked up,” she said, and Fjord grimaced, not sure he could really keep a hold of any one accent even after getting some sleep. It had been long enough since he hadn’t hid his voice that it was almost difficult to settle into that one, especially with a part of him clawing to pull Caleb’s voice close to his chest while he still remembered every strange syllable that he spoke. 

“Thanks for that, Beau. Just the best of friends,” he muttered, knowing his voice sounded too similar to Caleb’s, but he didn’t care, jogging ahead to try and get out of the oppressive tunnels as quickly as he could, especially now that he could see the mid-day light. 

Was it really just after midday? It felt as though days had passed in that structure, not a few hours. Still, he supposed it made sense, considering it wasn’t that large of a structure, just filled with strange insects that attacked at the slightest sound. At least there were enough outcroppings of stone around that it seemed as though they could hide. He didn’t want to keep going to track down that stupid Empire agent. He wanted to go back to the Xhorhaus, where Caleb could sit and learn Dunamancy from that stupid elf with the too-perfect hair and eyes and magical ability that he actually understood. At least Caleb would be safe there. Even if there was a strange twist in Fjord’s chest every time he saw the bright and easy expression on Caleb’s face after the lessons.

“Come on, Fjord. You’re walking so slow,” Jester said, teasing as she pulled on his sleeve, and Fjord sighed as he heard her sing-song voice hiding a layer of tension and worry as she looked at him. 

“I’m fine, promise. Just tired. Can’t quite believe that it’s noon, or near enough.”

“Yeah. That’s really weird and all. But we didn’t take a minute to catch our breath and all, and it was really early when we set out and all, so that’s probably why it’s still so early,” she said, somewhat ramble-y and all, and her voice trailed into a buzz of noise as Fjord tuned her out again. It probably wasn’t the best, but he had caught sight of Yasha and Caleb in her arms, and he took a shaking breath before jogging over to her. Jester would forgive him in time. He simply needed to be close to Caleb again, only to try to even keep his body safe when he couldn’t keep him safe when it counted.

“I can hold him, at least for a little,” Fjord said, voice quiet as he looked down at Caleb, and then back up at Yasha, and her face crumpled before she shook her head. 

“I...ah, I don’t think that you would be able to carry him. I mean, you...bodies are heavy, Fjord. And Caleb is...well, he is not that heavy, to be honest, but you are...that’s not to say that you are weak or anything, but...he is heavy,” Yasha said, and Fjord finally held up a hand, cutting her off before she could continue her nervous stammering.

“Fine. It’s fine. I get it. It’s whatever. I just wanted to offer so you had a break.”

“Hey, Mr. Fjord, why don’t you come join me,” Caduceus said, literally pulling Fjord away from Yasha before she could respond, and Fjord couldn’t help the glare at him. 

“What do you want, Duceus? I was asking Yasha a question.”

“I never said you weren’t, Mr. Fjord. But I think you need to take a few moments away from Caleb and everything, that’s all. I know you’re hurting. But that’s not an excuse to take it out on the others. Now help me look for a place to camp.”

Fjord leveled a glare at Caduceus before turning his attention out to the fields in front of them. The firbolg was right, as much as Fjord didn’t want to admit it. Perhaps it was best to not trail behind and count the drops of blood that fell from Caleb’s corpse consistently even after so long. And he especially didn’t particularly want to continue looking at the missing arm and wonder how Caleb would ever manage to cast spells so effortlessly again.

After what felt like hours of walking, trudging through the fields, Fjord finally pointed an outcropping of stone that looked safe enough for them to rest under. It was finally getting close to dark as well, so they could sleep, but Fjord didn’t know if he could manage even that. He wanted Caleb to be fine, and as they set up camp, he nearly wanted to snap and snarl at Caduceus and Jester for not bringing him back yet. 

He couldn’t, though. Not when Caduceus was carefully cleaning and taking care of Caleb’s body, carefully explaining what he was doing to Jester. Fjord supposed that this was the first time that Jester actually saw a dead body that they were practically preparing for burial. She had been so isolated before she left on her travels, and Molly had died while they were gone, and it hadn’t happened another time at all. He had, though. People died on the open seas far more often than sailors liked to admit, and when you’re the only one not terribly squeamish, it meant that you were frequently the one to deal with the bodies. 

Fjord quietly moved to settle down near them, listening to Caduceus explain why he performed the actions he did to Jester. First was taking care of his arm, and Fjord found himself sitting nearby and watching Caduceus carefully wrap the wound, much like he would for someone still breathing. After that, the rest of Caleb’s body was washed and then dressed once more. It was a shame that the rich purple fabrics Caleb just bought were ruddy with mud and blood and likely wouldn’t be salvageable. Caduceus didn’t linger on that, though, and continued with the motions that he was used to, finally settling a cloth over Caleb’s body. He seemed to make a face at the fabric, and Fjord vaguely wondered what he would prefer over the rough woolen blanket that had been purchased as a new bedroll some time back. 

Once the blanket was settled in place, carefully tucked under him so it wouldn’t come off in the night, Caduceus finished by placing two small, blue charms with a circular design on it over where Caleb’s eyes were underneath the sheet they had settled on him. Fjord finally stirred from his fugue of watching the motions, leaning towards Caleb’s body and Caduceus’ hands, wondering where the coins were. Caleb needed the coins if they weren’t able to bring him back. 

“You’re missing the coins,” Fjord mumbled, already fishing out the silver and gold piece from his purse. 

“What?”

“Coins. You’ve gotta give them coins so that they can pay for passage,” Fjord said, walking on his knees over to Caleb and carefully sliding the coins underneath the blue-and-white charms of Caduceus. They’d be safe there, and wouldn’t slide off very easily. He could sew up the blindfold for them properly in the morning if need be. 

“I’ve never heard that one, Mr. Fjord. Sailor’s tradition?” 

Fjord nodded slightly, hand lingering on the sheet, skimming over Caleb’s cheek, closing his eyes and sighing as he felt Jester’s hand on his shoulder. Her slim fingers dug into his shoulder, and he recognized that she was trying to pull him back, but his hands strayed just a moment later before he pulled back from him. 

“Yeah. You gotta pay to cross over, give the Raven something shiny so they notice you. Otherwise you get ghosts because you can’t get across,” he said, opening his eyes to glance at Caduceus. Caduceus nodded as he looked at Fjord for a little bit, before adjusting and settling the coins and charms better on Caleb’s eyes. 

“I like that tradition. Might have to keep that one for myself,” Caduceus murmured, settling back for a moment before standing up and making his way over to the fire, already fussing with his box of tea and the dented tea kettle that accompanied it. 

Fjord simply looked down at Caleb, almost surprised by how small he seemed underneath the sheet, especially with the two charms being the only spot of color on the dingy grey of the fabric. It was stupid, but he wanted to curl up with Frumpkin, even if the cat made him sneeze and his eyes water a little. 

“Fjord...you’re not going to take Caleb’s accent now, are you? That would be too many accents, even for you,” Jester said, and Fjord flinched as he felt her press against his side, pulling away, looking up at Caduceus. At least he had the decency to stand up and walk over to the small fire Beau and Yasha were trying to take care of.

“I do not know what you’re talking about,” Fjord said once he felt that Caduceus wasn’t listening in too much, leaning into a Zemnian accent, though he turned to Jester and gave her a broken smile. Only teasing, naturally. Of course he wouldn’t borrow Caleb’s accent while he missed the wizard’s soothing voice like a balm against his fracturing soul. 

Jester pouted for a moment before elbowing his side, harder than what was necessarily called for. “You are a dick sometimes. Do not forget to eat some dinner before bed.” 

Fjord didn’t want to eat, but when they all gathered around a weak fire an hour or so later with tea and food from Caduceus, he managed a few bites. Caleb would be back soon. He’d be back soon enough, and Fjord could apologize before making his own way back to Rosana and then to Port Damali. He couldn’t continue to stay with the Mighty Nein when he couldn’t keep them safe. 

“We...do not have the bubble tonight.”

Fjord looked up at Yasha, somehow only realizing it in the moment as she said that. It would be the first time since he, Yasha, and Jester were kidnapped that they would be sleeping out in the open as a whole group. “We need watches. We can’t get away without them tonight like we can at other times. I can take first watch. I don’t need as much rest as some of you,” he said, knowing full well that he intended to stay awake the entire night regardless. He didn’t need the rest for his spells. Jester and Caduceus and Nott did, though. And hopefully Caleb would have his spells when they brought him back. 

If he could even cast them one-handed. 

Fjord tried not to think about that. 

“But you need your sleep too! You were hurt, and you need to rest.” Jester’s voice sounded sharp with her accent, the usual song-like lilt of her words disappeared for the moment.

“I’ll be fine, Jessie. I’ll patch myself up as well as I can, and that’ll be fine,” Fjord replies, waving away another round of protests from her. He knew he was exhausted, but he couldn’t get the others risk not getting enough rest because he insisted he needed sleep. 

“I’ll take second, then,” Nott said, her words surprisingly not yet slurred, and Fjord glanced at her, honestly shocked to not see the flask in her hand. That was good, he supposed, that she wasn’t getting drunk right now, but then it also felt as though he was the only one properly upset with the fact that Caleb fucking died and everyone else didn’t care about it. He knew it was silly, considering he knew the others were probably grieving in their own ways, but he couldn’t help but feel as though they were relying too much on their gods. Yes, he knew that they were powerful, but it felt as though none of them particularly cared about them. The Wildmother, though. She seemed good. He’d take her. 

“I’ll get to bed, then. I’m sure we want to start as early as we can, tomorrow,” Caduceus said, and he set a hand down, heavy on Fjord’s shoulder. “Wake me up if you need anything.”

Fjord only nodded, curling up as tight as his limbs would allow, the reminder of how he felt in his own skin unpleasant. He should have guessed that would be the full spiral of things after he started the self-loathing caravan of awful thoughts. The reminder of his too-large teeth in his mouth, and the way his limbs felt as though they couldn’t move as they should, sent him into an even worse place as he shifted to look out at the grassland, the sharp tug of Beau pulling on his hair as everyone bedded down for the night not able to stir him from the dark place he had settled in as dark fell around him. Everything felt wrong, and it especially felt wrong that they weren’t in the dim light of Caleb’s bubble with the distant sound of Frumpkin’s purring. He hadn’t realized how much noise Caleb and Frumpkin made and how tuned in he was to the wizard’s noises he was, but now that they were gone, he hated it and it was far too quiet. 

“We never did have that talk,” he finally murmured, soft and quiet as he looked out into the darkness. The fire had long since faded into barely-warm embers, and everyone was quiet with sleep, pressed back against the side of the overhang. He was fairly certain that Beau, Jester, and Nott were in a huge pile on Yasha, but he didn’t bother glancing back at them to check. They didn’t seem to stir when he spoke, so he shifted closer to Caleb’s body, not sure why he was speaking now when he didn’t have a chance of hearing him, but he supposed he needed to figure out some way to say it before the actual conversation happened. 

“You said your real name was Bren. Well. It seems as though most of us have changed our names in the past. Mine was Xander. And then Vandran died.” Fjord took a deep breath, thinking over everything that happened to him and trying to figure out what exactly he was even trying to do as he said this, risking the others finding out about his fake accent and everything. He didn’t want to stop, though, not now that he was finally telling someone this and it wasn’t just Jester being too insightful in her weird way and pointing it out. 

“Vandran was basically my father. But I guess you probably knew that. Picked it up back when we were pirates. If you did. I don’t know. You seem like you know everything some days,” Fjord murmured before rubbing the back of his head with a soft sigh. It was stupid to tell Caleb’s body all of this, especially when he didn’t feel any particular urge to spill his guts like this, but he supposed it was nice to pretend that Caleb cared about him. 

“Vandran apparently dying, and my finding that sword, well. It seemed as though there wasn’t any real reason to think that I should even bother trying to be the same person. Jessie knows about the voice. Doesn’t know about the name and all. Nor that it feels as though I’m an entirely different person now, compared to when I still answered to Xander. But yeah. You said we could talk about this later. I don’t really know what there is to talk about, to be honest. I was a sailor. My best friend and ex blew up my boat and hit me with a piece of wood and knocked me overboard. Simple, really.”

Fjord huffed a laugh, running a hand through his hair before looking back at the dark fields, glad to see nothing move other than the slight sway of grass in the distance from the night-time breeze. It was strange to think back to Sabien and the way that man had so easily betrayed him and the ship. And he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to himself that it had felt especially personal when it happened the night Sabien had finally stayed in bed after fucking him. A frown twisted Fjord’s face as he thought about that and the way the slim half-elf had felt, pressed against his body and reminding him of how big and slow and stupid Fjord could be. He could feel the same slick feeling of shame slide down his spine, twinned with the desire and longing for Sabien to be close again, just as he had the last time they had been together. He hated that man, but he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t enjoyed someone at least pretending to want him like that. 

“I think I love you, Caleb.” 

Those words just slipped out, and Fjord curled up tighter, almost hating himself for how true they were. He didn’t know why he said them at that moment, nor why he even let them slip out in the first place. He didn’t deserve Caleb, not when Caleb was going to do amazing things, and he had Essek to guide him on, and he was only a person being held hostage by a giant snake with too many eyes. 

He bit his lip, frowning as he looked out into the dark fields, trying not to let any more untimely confessions spill from his lips, and slowly let the night pass by him. 


	3. ashes to breath

“Come on, Mr. Fjord. I think it’s time you got some breakfast food in your system.”

Fjord frowned as he opened his eyes, looking up at Caduceus before rubbing at his eyes and trying to figure out where he was and what had happened. He didn’t remember falling asleep at all, but clearly it happened, or else he wouldn’t be waking up. 

“Is everyone okay? I didn’t mean to sleep during watch,” he said, tongue fumbling for a moment before he looked around at the others, and Caduceus shook his head. 

“Nah, you’re fine. I woke up as you were falling asleep. No harm, no foul. Just let us know next time if you’re getting too tired to stay up, that’s all,” Caduceus said, and the frown on Fjord’s face simply deepened. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place and shouldn’t have let everyone down like that.

Still, his hands accepted the plate of food before he realized what was going on, and he even had a bite of the strange hash in his mouth before he recognized the fact that they were doing breakfast, and not taking care of Caleb yet. “Is Caleb back already? Did you bring him back without me?”

“No. We needed to get some breakfast first. Unless you wanted us to  _ starve _ ,” Jester said, drawing her vowels out even more than she usually did, and the usual teasing not entirely suffusing her words. Fjord tried not to take it personally as he curled in on himself and started vaguely shoveling food into his mouth with another word. 

The food tasted like ash in his mouth, and while he had more than enough experience in eating meals he didn’t care for in situations that could be improved upon, he didn’t think something like this would grow any easier. Eating barely ten feet away from a friend’s dead body while the cleric started drawing and carving and laying out different symbols around their body should never get easier, he supposed. He’d take a thousand meals on rough seas where they couldn’t risk cutlery for fear of hurting themselves, or nervously eating while they tried to lay low and off the decks when a pirate vessel ventured too close to their defenseless hull, over this situation. 

This was agony. 

Every heartbeat felt sluggish. There seemed to be something missing in his head with Caleb dead. The scar on his hand ached down to the bone.

Eventually, his fork came up empty, and he was forced back to the present, eyes looking up and landing on Yasha, the only one still sitting close to the remains of the fire with him, looking very concerned. 

“He will be fine. Caduceus is almost ready,” she murmured, and she seemed to almost reach out to him, but aborted and restarted the motion a few times before Fjord took her hand and squeezed it tight. Caleb would be back. He’d track down and drag Caleb’s soul back himself, if he had to. There wasn’t any way that he’d let Caleb die because of a stupid adventure into a supposedly abandoned burrow. 

The next thirty minutes of waiting was agony as Fjord watched Caduceus finish with the symbols and the like around Caleb’s form. It was awful, and Fjord hated every moment of it, especially with the slight disgust he felt as Caduceus finally pulled the sheet away and he saw how obviously dead Caleb was, even if he also knew that he wasn’t that bad right now. Everything had to be almost ready, especially as Caduceus ground a deep red pigment into a paint, and traced lines along Caleb’s face, creating a strange filigree pattern over his nose and cheeks.

“Alright. Good. Let me explain what we’re going to do before I get started, alright?” Caduceus said as they all gathered around, and Fjord couldn’t be bothered to listen, even if he did so as he stared at Caleb’s body. It seemed as though he or Nott or someone had woven some flowers into his hair, along with the other preparations. He didn’t see them now, so perhaps Nott had snuck over and done it sometime over the night.

“So we’re going to be asking the Raven Queen to give us back his soul. She doesn’t like to do this very often, but we’ll see. We’ll have to have three people make a petition and sacrifice. It’ll be to Caleb just as much to Her, so you’re going to have to give him a reason to come back.”

Fjord felt his stomach drop as he heard Caduceus’ soft words. Yet another god to deal with. Caleb’s own demons to deal with troubled Fjord more, though, and he knew those ran deep, even if the Nein didn’t know even half of it. “And if we can’t convince him to come back?” Fjord asked, quiet and scared to even know what would happen then. 

“Then we find a nice place for him to rest. I would rather him be buried in the Blooming Grove to be protected, but we’re too far even from the Xhorhaus to lay him to rest there,” Cad said, a soft sigh in his voice. 

Fjord couldn’t stifle the slightly hysterical laugh that bubbled from his chest, inspired by the morbid curiosity of what a tea made from Caleb’s body would taste like. 

Maybe like smoke, with a sweet undercurrent and spice infused throughout.

Fjord wanted to know what Caleb tasted like.

He stiffened as he felt a hand fall onto his head, and he blinked as he looked at Yasha, her hand on his head. “We will bring him back. He will come back to his family,” she said, voice just loud enough for only Fjord to hear, and he felt somewhat sick as he continued to doubt that entirely. Everything Caduceus had said about the ritual just made it seem as though it would be impossible for them to succeed with it. The Raven Queen wouldn’t smile on them. Caleb would think that he deserved death too much to come back. He’d leave them entirely. He’d leave Fjord entirely.

Now, though, they needed to begin the ritual. Caduceus lit some incense and started a quiet prayer in a language that Fjord had no hope of understanding whatsoever. Still, something seemed to be working as the diamond placed over Caleb’s heart started to have a faint light that pulsed, almost like a dim heartbeat. 

The next several minutes went in a blur. Nott said something, and Beau said something, and Jester said something, but Fjord kept his eyes on the diamond. He found his lips murmuring Caduceus’ quiet prayer as well, not understanding it, but hoping that Caleb understood that Fjord needed him too, not just the other three as well. He couldn’t bring himself to be one of the people to sacrifice something, not when he didn’t have anything to give up for Caleb other than himself and the way he needed the man back at his side.

At least the quiet light seemed to strengthen and brighten, the faint pulse turning almost into a flickering light that turned into a small flame within the gem. By the time the prayer came to a close, with the offerings sacrificed and the requests whispered into the air, Fjord was barely breathing as he waited to see if it worked. If Caleb had the good sense to actually listen to what Nott and them had said, he had to come back. 

There was a beat. 

And another

And a third. 

The light seemed to waver, fading back to a dull, pulsing glow, and right as Fjord found his lungs burning with the need to breathe, the glow came back. 

More furious than before, the glow lit up the gem, shattering it as Caleb gasped for breath, screaming something in Zemnian as he lashed out, hand gripping vice-tight on Fjord’s knee. Fjord gasped for breath as well, and he held tight to Caleb’s forearm, staring him dead in the eye when Caleb’s eyes landed on him. They remained locked there for a moment as Caleb finally relaxed, though his grip didn’t loosen at all. They remained there, the moment suspended like a hollow glass globe tossed into the air, before it was shattered as Nott barreled into Caleb, hugging him tight. With the tense moment dispelled so easily, everyone else started hugging Caleb, even if it was obvious that he wasn’t comfortable with it for the moment. Caleb didn’t refuse it, and Fjord quietly stood up, walking away so that he could catch his breath and settle his heartbeat into a proper rhythm again. 

Fjord lost track of the time as he stared out at the small shape of the tree in the distance, fumbling over some sort of thankful prayer that would even come close to expressing how he felt about this. Anything he thought of didn’t seem to work to capture the way in which he felt like half his soul had been puzzled back into place in his chest. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” 

Fjord blinked, turning to look at Caleb, almost surprised to see him standing there, entirely alone, and his face clearly portrayed that confusion. “I told the others I needed to piss. I wanted to talk with you,” he added after a moment, shrugging as he sat down next to Fjord. He slipped, obviously not used to the lack of an arm yet, and a brief moment of disgust flitted across his features as Fjord caught him and helped him down. A flush crawled up Fjord’s neck, and he looked away, hoping the look wasn’t intended for him. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Fjord asked after a moment, trying not to squirm as he felt Caleb’s side still pressed against his, with his arm settled on Fjord’s thigh. He didn’t want to make Caleb uncomfortable with even more contact with someone. Every time Fjord pulled away, though, Caleb was right back pressed against his side. Eventually, Caleb just gripped Fjord’s thigh, keeping him in place.

“I heard you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Last night. The others mentioned you stayed up with...with my body last night. And I realized that I actually had heard you talk to me last night,” Caleb said, not looking at Fjord, and Fjord found himself staring at Caleb’s face, the lingering lines of Caduceus’s dye creating deep red trails on his face and haloed by Caleb’s ginger hair. 

“What exactly did you hear?”

“I think I heard everything, Xander.”

Well, that was one thing that Caleb had heard, but Fjord wasn’t worried about that one. He would have told Caleb that anyways when they had finished the conversation from the tree. He was far more curious as to the other thing that had slipped out. 

“And I realize that you really hadn’t been paying attention just before Jester interrupted us at the tree. Because I already told you that I think I love you as well.”

Oh. That was what he had missed. Fjord took a deep breath, carefully sorting things out and trying to figure this out in his head, before he was startled from his thoughts as he felt Caleb’s hand press against his palm and the thick scar from the blood pact they made. 

“I lost my half. But it does not change things, I do not think,” Caleb murmured, and he turned, pressing closer to Fjord. 

The movement and the way Caleb’s nose was pressed to Fjord’s throat caught him off-guard for a moment, but it didn’t take long for Fjord to collect himself. It felt nice, and Fjord wrapped his arms tight around Caleb, pulling him into his lap properly. “I love you,” he murmured, voice smooth with his Damalian accent as he held onto him. 

“ _ Ich liebe dich auch _ ,” Caleb murmured in reply, looking up at Fjord before pressing their lips together, fitting like pieces made for each other. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that ends that lovely fun romp. I'll probably write more to continue this, considering I thought this ended nicely with Caleb's resurrection and the like, but I really want to explore the actual implications of what happened to Caleb. So I'll probably write that eventually, but we'll have to see. As it is, I like the fact that it ends in a nice way. Let's just briefly ignore what the fuck just happened to Caleb in favor of Fjord kissing him.


End file.
